


The Presence of Fear

by breakforanarchy



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Scene, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 19:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17494193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakforanarchy/pseuds/breakforanarchy
Summary: An alternate scene between Aram and Raymond at the end of 3x09: The Director.





	The Presence of Fear

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short love letter to gentle men.

“Aram.”

The bike crashed to the floor, and thank god he was still wearing his helmet because he jumped hard enough to fall back into the closed door. It was the third time Mr. Reddington had broken into his apartment, it really shouldn’t be such a surprise anymore—but damn it, this was his home. There wasn’t supposed to be anything in his home that he hadn’t invited there.

“Mr. Reddington.” Aram sighed and straightened, removing his helmet and hanging it on the handle bar that was sticking up at a crooked angle. He’d pick it up later. “I’m so sorry.”

In the corner to the left of the couch, Dembe loomed half in shadow, hands clasped in front of him and eyes wandering with open curiosity—he didn’t consider Aram a threat. This was somehow both flattering and just a bit insulting. When Aram uttered the apology, Dembe’s gaze darted briefly to his face, and he offered a small smile of reassurance.

“For what?” Mr. Reddington asked. He tilted his bare head, blinked once as though confused—he could look so unassuming, so _innocent,_ and knowing otherwise was terrifying.

“I should have done more.” Aram took a few steps into the room, fingers tangling and twisting in on each other rapidly. He clenched his fists. “When they took Liz, I should have done more.”

Mr. Reddington said nothing. Aram’s fingers renewed their dance, first tapping and then twisting, too much nervous energy with nowhere to go.

“If Agent Ressler had charged in front of all those agents, gun drawn and that scowl of his fixed firmly in place, my only surprise would have been how blatantly he was breaking protocol.” Mr. Reddington smiled, his absent eyes drifting somewhere over Aram’s head, as though picturing the scene. It wasn’t difficult—Ressler would have held his ground without flinching or cold sweat, without a trace of fear in his hard gaze even if he felt it. “He is what many societies consider an ideal of a man. It is in his nature to act, to throw himself into the line of fire without thought. If he had done what you did, he would have been considered brave. Foolish, but brave.”

Aram nodded. He lowered his eyes to the floor—his fingers danced all the faster.

“Look at me.”

Panic skittered up his spine, its grip so cold that he straightened without thought. His nervous eyes found Mr. Reddington—he hadn’t moved, still relaxed against the old couch—only his gaze was now on Aram’s face and… well. He didn’t look angry.

“You are a gentle man,” he continued. His stare was firm, allowing no thought of turning away—of hiding. “And a highly intelligent one. You use your mind to solve problems rather than your body. You do your best to avoid conflict. Yet when you knew your friend was in danger, you acted. You took that gun and you put yourself directly in harm’s way in a desperate attempt to save Lizzie, and you did it despite the fear you must have felt. If it had been Ressler it would have been brave, but because it was you? It was downright heroic.”

Mr. Reddington stood. He took the few steps from the couch to Aram, putting them only inches apart—despite being taller, Aram felt dwarfed under the intensity of the other man’s stare.

“I didn’t come here to get an apology from you, Aram. I came here to thank you.”

He put a hand around the back of Aram’s neck and squeezed, just once, before snatching up his hat from the coffee table and walking out the door. Dembe followed silently, offering only another smile as he left.

Downright heroic. With a giddy little grin, Aram righted his bike and bolted the door. Just in case.

**Author's Note:**

> I loved the ending of The Director, I just had my own things to say and couldn't quite make them work along with the original ending, so I went with an alternate scene. Also, I am completely in love with Aram and I desperately wish I could have a boyfriend like him.


End file.
